Pas de Deux
by Aquila1
Summary: Max and Logan dance around each other- (sorry, nothing new, just fixing a few small things)
1. Chapter 1

Pas de Deux

Pas de Deux

** **

**_By Aquila_**

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing related to Dark Angel, just the thoughts in my head.

**Rating**: PG-13

**Email**: hhinam@hotmail.com

**Summary**: Max and Logan dance around each other

**Author's Notes**: Hi all. Thank you for all the wonderful feedback for my first story "Unfinished". It's what inspired me to write more. I hope this lives up to your expectations. Once again, I was inspired by music, but it is only a secondary feature of this story. Tchaikovsky's Pas de Deux from the Nutcracker is a fairly melodramatic piece; so keep that in mind as you read this. As always, feedback and constructive criticism is welcomed. 

Sorry about reposting this. I just couldn't help fixing some mistakes and changing a few sentences around. What can I say? I'm a bit of a perfectionist. If you've already read this, you won't noitice a difference. Thanks again for all your reviews. I'll hopefully have some new stuff up soon.

Thanks to my mom for beating proper grammar into my head from a very young age and supporting my writing.

Max gripped the railing of the elevator and closed her eyes against the spinning world around her. She had been fighting off an especially bad bout of seizures and her body was tired of the battle. She had made it though the day at work without too much hassle thanks to regular doses of tryptophan and the odd smart-ass comment to Normal just to keep her morale up. Now she was on her way up to see Logan and she was having a hard time keeping up the brave front. 

She tried not to think too hard about why she was heading to Logan's and not home. Now that Kendra was aware of her "neurological condition" she probably would have just made sure Max took her medicine and tucked her into bed, no questions asked. But instead, here she was staring blankly at the mirrored wall of the elevator as it chugged its way up to the penthouse.

She fought to maintain her balance as the car slid to a stop at the top floor. Clumsily, she crossed the short distance from the elevator to Logan's door. Leaning her head against the cool cherry wood, she sighed trying to muster up some semblance of her normal attitude. She hated it when Logan saw her weaknesses. _'Then why am I here?'_ She thought back to the last time he had cared for her during her seizures, the feel of his cool hand on her flushed forehead. The concern that had been glowing in his eyes as he gently stroked her hair had made her feel safe for one of the only times in her life. She was craving that feeling of security and the realization scared her back into reality.

Deciding she was better off on her own than facing all her troubling thoughts when she was too weak to fight, she was about to take her hand off the doorknob when the door flew inwards, sending her flying forward, with an uncharacteristic yelp, into the arms of Bling.

"Max!" Bling instinctively enveloped her tiny frame, holding her upright. "You O.K.?" 

Max tried to regain her composure as she pushed herself into a standing position off his broad chest.

"Max, what's the matter?" Logan came up beside her, recovering from seeing his genetically enhanced best friend come flying almost literally through his front door.

"Yeah, I'm fine…just thought I'd drop by." She looked at the floor, still unable to admit her weakness, hoping they wouldn't notice her trembling.

Logan's eyes narrowed. "You're not fine," he countered. "Bad bout of seizures huh?" He nodded to Bling who disappeared down the hall. "Bling's gone to get the guest room ready. You can stay for as long as you need." He reached out to touch her arm gently, but caught himself. Max looked so lost. He wanted desperately to pull her into his lap, rock her to sleep and soothe away her fears, but he knew it was too much too soon. He and Max were slowly dancing closer and closer to each other, but he was afraid one wrong move might spook her into leaving for good. The fact that she had come to him today for comfort coaxed a reflective smile from his face as he waited for Max to argue back.

"I'm fine Logan; I just need to sit down for a few minutes." Max nearly tripped over Logan's wheelchair as she tried to make her way into the kitchen.

"Max you don't have to fight me on everything. Just let me help." Logan said softly as he fixed her gaze with his penetrating blue eyes and Max sighed resignedly. She really didn't want to fight. She shakily followed him down the hall towards the guest room. Bling met them in the hallway and flashed Max a reassuring smile.

"Everything you need is in there. Logan, I'm going to head out unless you need me for anything else."

"Thanks Bling. No, we'll be fine. I think all Max needs is a little rest."

Max glared sharply at Logan. "Hello! I'm standing right here! I am quite capable of speaking for myself, thank you very much." Had she not been fighting to remain standing, she would've likely slapped Logan for speaking of her like a child. Turning to Bling she smiled weakly. "Thanks Bling. I appreciate the help."

"No problem Max. I'll see you guys tomorrow." Bling nodded to Logan, who looked up at him sheepishly. 

Logan herded Max into the guest room and she sat down on the bed, which had already been turned down. She was now shaking so hard, she couldn't undo her boots and she swore under her breath as she tried to pull the zipper down far enough to slip the offending footwear off her feet. At the feel of Logan's hands on hers, her head whipped up, and their gazes locked.

"Let me," Logan's voice was barely above a whisper as he bowed his head to the task at hand and unzipped her boots, gently slipping first one then the other off her feet and placing them on the floor, next to the bed. Max sloughed off her jacket and lay back against the small mountain of pillows. She was sure she had never felt anything so soft.

She sighed painfully, closing her eyes, trying to control another bout of tremors. Images of her childhood floated across her eyelids. The stark grey walls of Manticore came into focus as she remembered the first time she had ever had a seizure. She was six years old. The other kids were asleep in their bunks, when Max opened her eyes. Everything around her seemed to be moving of its own accord. Then she realized she was the one who was moving. Her body convulsed spasmodically and fear slowly crept into her heart. She couldn't control her own body. Ever since they were old enough to understand, Lydecker and his doctors, soldiers and teachers had taught them that control was the most important element of a good soldier and suddenly Max felt it slipping through her fingers. She stifled a cry, knowing that if her superiors found out she was defective, they would take her away, never to come back, like they had done to Ethan when he started to shake one day in ranks.

The feeling of Logan leaning across her midriff shocked her back into the present. "Logan, what are you doing?" she managed to croak, repulsed by the weakness in her voice.

"I'm covering you up." He answered matter-of-factly as he pulled the covers to her chin and sat back in his chair. "I figured even you get cold now and then." He smiled warmly as she felt instantly a little better, while in some dark recess, her mind wondered how he could have such an effect on her.

"Thanks." She whispered, trying to hold her eyelids open, which suddenly felt like they were made of lead.

"No problem." He couldn't seem to take his eyes off her face. She looked so small, buried in blankets and pillows in the king-sized bed. The fatigue had washed away her normal attitude and everything about her seemed softer, younger. He suddenly realized he had been staring just a little too long and quickly broke the spell, turning his head toward the door. "I'll go get you some milk and some tryptophan to help take the edge off." Max, her eyes closed, only nodded and he made his way out of the room toward the kitchen, his face feeling decidedly warm.

***

When he returned with the milk and pills, Logan found Max sound asleep, the blankets over her chest rising and falling slowly with her laboured breathing. The sight drew a slightly sad smile from his lips as he set the tray on the bedside table and turned to face the troubled angel asleep in front of him. Though his brain was telling him to leave her be, his deaf heart pushed him out of his wheelchair and onto the bed next to her. Shifting his weight as gently as possible so as not to wake her, Logan propped his back against the headboard and very gingerly placed a hand on her forehead. Her skin felt warm and slick from fever and he slowly ran his fingers through her dark curls, amazed how fragile she looked in sleep. Sighing, he leaned his head back and closed his eyes, resigning himself to the thought that she would only allow him this close when she was unconscious.Soon he found himself losing the battle with his own body's fatigue and he slowly drifted off.

***

Max's eyes fluttered open and she bought her hands up to rub the last dregs of sleep from her lashes. As the world around her came into focus, she realized she had somehow moved out to the couch in Logan's living room. Blinking wildly, trying to remember how she got there, Max noticed that the room was lit only by the soft glow of candles. Assuming it was just another brown out, she scanned what she could see of the apartment for her host.

"Looking for me?" his deep voice in her ear caused her to shiver involuntarily. She froze. Logan's voice had been in her ear. She had felt his warm breath on her neck. Whipping her head around she found herself looking up at Logan, who was standing behind her, his face lit up with a tremendous grin, his eyes sparkling in the candlelight.

She nearly flew off the couch, spinning around to face him. "Logan! How? When?" The questions tumbled out of her mouth as he rounded the furniture to bring them face-to-face. Watching the confidence in his stride, Max sighed in realization. "It's a dream."

Logan continued to smile as he brought his hand up to brush a loose strand of hair from her face, a gesture he had wanted to do in his waking hours for as long as he could remember knowing Max. He could see the questions rolling through her mind, behind her dark eyes and he wanted to relieve her fears. "I'm not sure which one of us is dreaming this, but why not make the most of it." 

Max felt his fingers brush lightly against hers and she looked down as he took her hand. His whisper in her hair brought her eyes back up to his. "Dance with me." His words echoed what she had asked of him in that strange but wonderful dream from the hospital, so many weeks before. 

She was dimly aware of music fading into her consciousness as he led her away from the furniture, towards the window. Tightening his grip on her hand, he slowly drew her closer, sliding his other arm around her waist. Max responded by bringing her arm up around his shoulders. They stood like that, staring at each other intently, until Logan took a step forward and they began to glide around the room. 

Max closed her eyes. She was certain it was a dream, but everything felt so real. She inhaled deeply, taking in the mix of soap and skin, that was uniquely Logan. His body radiated heat and his arm around her waist sent shivers up her spine.

"Max…you O.K.?" Logan's voice penetrated her haze. She must have had her eyes shut longer than she realized. She opened them and felt her breath leave her, as she met his gaze. His eyes shone with concern, like the ocean lit from below.

"Yeah, I'm good." She whispered, unsure of the stability of her voice this close to him.

Logan responded by tightening the grip on her waist and pulling her closer. Max tried to calm the storm of emotions whirling inside her at his touch by concentrating on the music. She recognized it. It was the Pas de Deux from Tchaikovsky's Nutcracker. Pas de deux, a dance for two. Max smiled inwardly at how well it described her relationship with Logan. For the last few months, they had been dancing around each other, never really touching, but unable to walk away. 

Max knew it wasn't safe for her to get attached. She needed to be willing to walk away from Seattle for hers and her friends' safety. She'd even tried to walk away once, only to come running back in spite of the danger, when complications from Logan's spinal chord injury threatened to take him away from her forever. In the hospital, as she had laid her head on his chest and felt his heart beat slowly to the rhythm of the heart monitor, she realized that she needed Logan more than her safety and the realization scared the hell out of her. The sorrow and longing in the music seeped into her thoughts, echoing her own frustration. Sighing resignedly, she snuggled closer into Logan's comforting embrace.

Logan felt his heart speed up as he pulled her closer still, revelling in the feel of her soft curls against his face. He had dreamed of dancing with Max almost every night since she had saved his life in the hospital; but tonight, everything felt so much more real. He once heard someone say that dancing was really just the vertical expression of a horizontal desire and the thought made him smile. Logan didn't know if he would ever be able to express himself vertically for the rest of his life. Every day he worked to free himself from the confines of his chair so that he could give Max a reason to stay with him. He couldn't stand the thought of seeing her walk away again because he couldn't go with her.

Slowly they moved around the room as the music grew in intensity, whirling around them in a storm of unspoken thoughts and emotions. Suddenly, Max felt Logan pull away ever so slightly and the loss of contact caused a curious ache in her heart. She looked up at him and their gazes held; the air between them practically hummed with excitement. Logan brought his hand up and gently traced the line of her jaw. Max watched as determination spread across his face and she felt her heart speed up with anticipation and fear. Very slowly, the space between them dissolved and their lips touched. The connection was fleeting but the shock that ripped through them both sent the world around spinning into nothingness.

***

Max shot up in bed like she had been struck by lightening. The kiss had felt so real, that it had snapped her out of her dream. Movement on the bed caused her to whip her head around. She was surprised to see Logan sitting beside her, his glasses slightly off-kilter and an equally stunned expression on his face. They stared blankly at one another until Logan broke the spell.

"Did you just…"

"It was a dream." Max finished, a hint of uncertainty in her voice. She wasn't sure if it was a question or a statement.

"Yeah…" Logan looked thoughtful, as if he was planning his next words.

Panic started to rise in Max's heart.She was suddenly afraid of what he was about to say. Was he going to shrug it off like it meant nothing or… Max didn't know what kind of response she wanted from him and she started to shift uncomfortably on the bed.

Logan could see her eyes cloud with fear. Tentatively, he reached out towards her, hoping to keep her from running away. "Max…" he whispered, his eyes entreating her to trust him.

Max tensed and Logan could see the walls come slamming down around her. She broke away from his penetrating gazed and mumbled "Gotta blaze."

Logan tried to reach her, but she was up off the bed like a shot, her back to him, as she almost ran out of the room. "Max! Wait! Please!" Logan tried to get to his wheelchair, but in his haste to try and catch Max, he put too much weight on one side and he and the chair went crashing to the floor. "Dammit!" Logan cried, less from the pain of falling than from the rift that tore through his heart as he heard her hurried footsteps on the hardwood floor and the door slamming shut. "Max" he cried again desperately, knowing she couldn't hear him. He laid his head back against the floor as a single tear escaped his lashes. Max was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

Pas de Deux

Pas de Deux

** **

**Part 2**

** **

**_By Aquila_**

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing related to Dark Angel, just the thoughts in my head.

**Rating**: PG-13

**Email**: hhinam@hotmail.com

**Summary**: Max and Logan continue to dance around each other

**Author's Notes**: Hi all. Here's the rest of the story.Sorry to have kept you waiting. I was suffering from a bit of writer's block. I knew where I wanted to end, but I just couldn't get there. So here's the path I eventually worked out. Let me know what you think.

Thanks to my mom for beating proper grammar into my head from a very young age and supporting my writing.

Max made it as far as the elevator door. She stopped and leaned her forehead against the cool metal surface and took a deep breath. She defied the tears that were welling up under her lashes to try and escape. Exhaling shakily, she turned around and slumped to the floor. She had heard Logan's cry and the crash of his wheelchair, as she ran for the door and the sound reverberated through her head, tearing at her heart. She knew she shouldn't have run, but the instinct was too ingrained. '_Do not engage the enemy unless it's tactically advantageous to do so.'_ Lydecker's words came back to mock her as she stared at the floor, trying to fight the memory which threatened to overtake her. The enemy. Is that how she really thought of Logan, her adversary?

She shook her head violently, as if she could fling the thoughts off of her like drops of water. Logan wasn't the enemy. He knew her better than anyone she had ever known. He knew what she was capable of and he knew her weaknesses, yet he still wanted to be with her. He was everything she'd ever wanted; security, friendship…love… and it scared the hell out of her. She swore under her breath. Was Manticore so deep in her blood that she was truly incapable of connecting with other people? But what was this connection with Logan? They had shared the same dream. How does anyone become that close?

Max slammed her fists against the floor, trying to beat all of her pent-up frustration into the wooden boards beneath her. It didn't help. Sighing resignedly, she leaned her head back against the elevator doors and closed her eyes. How had Logan slipped beneath her radar? Till he had come along, she had managed to keep everyone, even Original Cindy and Kendra, just at arm's length. But now… no one had ever affected her like Logan. Her heart sped up whenever he flashed her that smile of his and despite her best efforts, she couldn't keep herself from giving in, from letting him in. When she was with him, she didn't have to pretend she was something she wasn't and she felt oddly lonely whenever their evenings together ended and she made her way home, back to her world. She found herself just showing up at the penthouse, like today, craving his company. What was wrong with her? How had she come to need him so much?

Her eyes slowly found their way back up to the door across the hallway from her. She knew she would have to go back and face him eventually. As much as she wanted to, Max knew he wouldn't let her sweep this away like it never happened, not this time. Silently, she stared at the barrier between them, willing it to open and reveal Logan on his way out to find her. Then she wouldn't have to make the first move; but the door didn't open. She strained her ears, listening for any sign of life behind the wall in front of her, but no sound could be heard except for the low hum of the lights in the hallway. A hollow feeling crept through her at the thought that Logan had just given up on her. He never gave up. 

As she sat there, feeling sorry for herself, cold fingers of fear, suddenly teased at her mind. Had she heard any sounds from Logan's apartment since she had left? She had been so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she wasn't sure if she had heard anything since the door slammed behind her. She had heard a crash as she ran away and assumed he had knocked his wheelchair over. There should've been noises associated with him getting back up, but she couldn't remember hearing them. Suddenly, another crash inside the apartment snapped her back out of her thoughts and she felt her body go cold. All hesitation gone, she leapt to her feet and went straight to his door.

***

Logan couldn't see any point in getting up. He was sprawled awkwardly on the floor next to the bed, where his fall had left him, but he couldn't bring himself to move. What was the point? Max was gone. There was no catching her. He couldn't run after her and ask her to come back… hell he couldn't even walk. Painfully, he pushed himself into a sitting position and propped himself up against the bedside table and closed his eyes. Remembered strains of Tchaikovsky's music lilted though his mind, teasing him with images of the dream. As he watched them dance across his eyelids, the music cried with all the sorrow and frustration that filled his heart. Furiously, he opened his eyes, trying to banish the torturous memory.

Slowly, like a gathering storm, anger rolled though him. Bling had once told him that if he didn't do something to let out all that he had been keeping inside, he would explode. As he stared blindly at the doorway through which Max had disappeared, he felt dangerously close to his boiling point. But giving in to his anger would mean losing control and he _never_ lost control. Even when he was told he might never walk again, even when he faced the man who had tethered him to this chair, even when he was staring down the barrel of a gun pointed at him by a thug determined to end his life, he had _never_ lost control. Now he had just watched the one woman he cared for, more than he thought possible, walk away from him in a moment of weakness. Damn it, he _was not _going to lose control now.

He reached up behind him and picked up the glass of milk he had left on the bedside table. The pure white liquid offered a canvas for his mind to paint anew images of Max as they flooded forth from his memory. When had she come to mean so much to him? He couldn't pinpoint the exact time. It had just happened. The words of another long-forgotten song floated into his mind _'I guess that's how you started, like a pinprick to my heart, but at this point you rush right through me and I start to drown.'_That's what Max had done. She had slipped into his life and captured his senses, slinking in and out of his world like a cat coming in out of the night, staying when it suited her fancy. Then somewhere along the way, things had changed and she stayed longer and more often. Then, in an act beyond his wildest dreams, she selflessly gave him the gift of all gifts, life. Now here he sat, her blood coursing through his veins, perfusing his heart with a constant reminder that he couldn't live without her. But now she was gone, having slipped away like a ghost into the night because he had been too much of a coward to reach for her when he could and hold her till her own fear subsided. Only then, could they have moved forward. Now it was too late. 

The realization of what he had let go hit him like a smack upside the head and his anger boiled over. Furiously, he cried out and hurled the glass across the room. It shattered into a multitude of glittering shards that rained down on the hardwood floor as rivulets of white trickled down the wall. Sighing heavily, he buried his head in his hands gave up the fight as hot tears stung his eyes, escaping from beneath his lashes and tracing a path down his unshaven cheeks.

"You know, there really is no use in crying over spilt milk."

The words cut through Logan's haze of self-pity and he felt his heart beat loudly in his chest. It was Max. She'd come back. He dropped his hands to his lap, but was reluctant to look up, afraid it was a dream and ashamed of his current state if it wasn't. Slowly he felt his walls rebuilding themselves, thicker and stronger than before. His mind quickly squelched the elation and relief that was pouring from his heart at the realization that she had returned to him, again. Stubborn self-preservation kicked in as he continued to study his floorboards. What was the saying, once bitten, twice shy? He was still licking his wounds from earlier; he was not about to stick salt in them now.

Max shifted nervously in the doorway. Logan was still staring at the floor, almost like he didn't hear her. She glanced around the room. It looked like a cyclone had hit it. Glass glinted up at her from the floor near the foot of the bed and milk, which had apparently been in the glass, was now collecting in a small pond at the base of the wall. The wheelchair was lying on its side next to Logan, who still hadn't moved. She didn't know what to say. He looked hollow, slumped against the bedside table, staring at a stream of milk that had found its way along the floor towards him. Max sighed inwardly. That milk had been for her. 

Suddenly she felt anger rise in her blood. She had come running back to him, against her best sense, thinking he was unconscious or in some other way hurt and here he was, sitting on the floor feeling sorry for himself after throwing a temper tantrum. An annoying little voice in the back of her mind was telling her that he _was_ hurt and she was the reason, but she pushed that unnerving little thought further into the recesses of her consciousness and decided her best defence was a good offence.

"Look Logan, I'm sure the hydrodynamics of milk on hardwood floors is fascinating, but I'm talking to you here."

The hard edge in her voice only served to fuel the angry fire in Logan's veins. How could she be so unfeeling? Maybe she really was as cold-hearted as her makers had designed her to be. Slowly, he raised his head and glared at her over the rim of his glasses, which had been pushed to the end his nose, his usually bright blue eyes icy and boring into her. But the barbed response, that had been taking shape in his mind, died in his throat. 

Despite her nonchalant stance in the doorway, Max stared back at Logan like a tiger backed into a corner. Her eyes, blazing with defiance and anger, but shadowed with fear and uncertainty, darted around the room, settling anywhere but on his face, desperate for a means of escape. Only this time he wasn't letting her go so easily.

Logan made a move for his chair, which snapped Max out of her spinning thoughts. Watching him struggle to lift himself off the floor, she suddenly found herself uncomfortable and needing to do something. Hesitantly, she kneeled in front of him and extended her arm, her eyes searching his for some kind of acceptance. It was a peace offering, but Logan wasn't ready to accept it. He refused to let her shrug off the last few hours like it had never happened. He was tired of dealing with every new wrinkle in their relationship that way. He broke her gaze and mumbled, "I'm fine," as he hauled himself back into his chair.

Max stood up indignantly, immediately back on the defensive. "You know I was just trying to help. I only came back to make sure you hadn't cracked your skull open and were lying in a pool of your own blood."

"Thanks for your concern" he shot back and the venom behind the words shocked them both. 

Max stared back at him, for the first time she didn't know what to say. He truly sounded like he hated her and the pain that rushed through her at the thought nearly brought her to knees. But there was no way she would let Logan know how much that last comment had hurt. Picking up what was left of her ego, she spun on her heel, throwing back a "Fine! I'm outta here," as she made to leave before she did or said something she'd regret. She could already feel unwanted tears brimming in her eyes.

Logan panicked for a split second as he watched her walk away, again. Suddenly the terrifying thought that it would be the last time he would ever see her snapped him into action. Desperate to keep her from leaving he followed her out of the room and towards the door, calling after her "We both know you didn't just come back here to make sure I was still alive."

Max stopped in her tracks and whipped around to face him, eyes blazing. Logan was sure he flinched under her gaze, but at least he had got her attention. "You know Logan, just because we shared a dream, or what ever the hell that was, doesn't mean you can read my mind." 

"Max, doesn't the fact that we even shared a dream at all mean something to you?" Logan's face had softened, but there was still an edge of anger holding his jaw taught.

"Yeah it means that there's something seriously wacked going on up in my head. O.K.? Thank the clever folks at Manticore for yet another genetic defect." The edge was slowly draining out of her voice too, but she still kept her guard up. She wasn't sure she liked where this conversation was going. The first time they had experienced this connection in the hospital, they had managed to pretend it was nothing, but now it had happened again and there was no ignoring it.

Logan allowed himself to relax a little. He had kept her from leaving, but now they actually had to talk, and for once he didn't know what to say. He had never experienced anything like what he felt for Max, but he didn't think she was ready to hear it. He smiled ruefully, "Is that really what you think this is, a genetic defect?"

"Look Logan, I don't know what to think. Maybe they messed up somewhere else in my brain chemistry. Maybe I gave it to you with the transfusion and now, somehow, we're connected."

Logan smiled in earnest this time at Max's attempt to rationalize a clearly irrational situation. _'Love is irrational,'_ a tiny voice in the deep recesses of his mind reminded him. Funny, the voice sounded a lot like Bling. Suddenly, another thought crept into the forefront of his senses. Had Max ever experienced love? His heart filled with sadness as Logan thought of Max's childhood filled with sterile walls and even more sterile people, learning only about the enemy, never about friends. Sure, she had escaped that life but, into what, a terrifying new world of unknown dangers, constantly on the run. She was shuffled from one foster family to the next, never knowing a family, friends, or love. She had grown up in a world of loneliness and fear and Logan desperately wanted her to realize it didn't have to stay that way.

"We are connected Max," he began delicately, as he rolled over to face her. He wanted to reach out and take her hand, if only to prevent her from running, but he kept himself in check. As much as he didn't want to admit it, he knew if she really wanted to run he couldn't stop her.

Max shifted uncomfortably, trying to avoid his relentless stare, but Logan ploughed forward, there was no backing down now. "I've felt a connection with you almost since the moment we met. Why do you think I went to all that trouble to track you down?"

"And here I thought you were just trying get me to pay for the window." Max's intended sarcasm sounded hollow as she stared at the floor. She didn't trust herself to look at Logan, for fear of what her always-expressive eyes might give away.

Logan couldn't help chuckling at her attempt at humour and for a moment, his soft laughter relieved some of the tension clouding the room. His lighter mood was immediately squelched by a sudden icy glare from Max, as she pushed past him and skulked over to the living room window. 

The sun had long since set and the city below was blanketed in an inky blackness. In the dark, the city seemed almost peaceful; only the odd orange glow and plume of smoke from vandal's fires revealing the storm brewing beneath its surface. Max wondered idly how long she had actually been at Logan's. It was beginning to feel like an eternity. Half of her desperately wanted to leave, but somewhere in the deep recesses of her heart, she knew that if she left like this, she would be unable to return and Max wasn't sure she could face that. She had tried to walk away from Logan twice actually, once out of peril, the other out of anger. But both times, something kept pulling her back. She couldn't figure out why she kept coming back to him, like Zack had pointed out, it was suicidal. But she just couldn't seem to leave him. She had never needed anyone before, why should she need him? _'Because you care about him' _a small voice in her head reminded her. Funny, it sounded a lot like Original Cindy.

Max leaned against the window and sighed quietly. The sound caused a sharp ache in Logan's heart. Saying nothing, he tentatively moved closer. Lifting his eyes to her, he was struck by how the soft light in the room played on her features, accentuating her soft curves and fading the harsh lines of her brutal upbringing into the shadows.She looked like a ghost and the beauty of the scene took his breath away. He stared silently, knowing she needed to work through her thoughts alone. He was afraid that if tried to reach out and touch her that she might vanish.

"What do you want from me?" 

Her voice was so soft that, for a moment, Logan thought that he had imagined her speaking. She was still facing away from him, but her reflection in the glass stopped him cold. Her intense stare reflected back at him from the darkened glass, her eyes wide and searching. She looked like a lost little girl, trying to find an anchor in the storm of emotions that raged inside of her. 

Logan fought a battle between his heart and his mind for an answer. Never had six simple words carried so much weight. He wanted to lay everything on the table, but he still wasn't sure how she'd react. He was certain of one thing though, that he couldn't bear to watch her walk away again.

"Max…" His voice sounded hoarse to his own ears, clouded with emotion.

Max felt every muscle in her body react as Logan's voice washed over her.She felt like a tightly wound spring and the sound of him saying her name only served to wind her tighter. Her mind was racing with potential outcomes to this situation, a Manticore ingrained habit she desperately wished she could break. What if he wanted nothing more than a business arrangement? What if he wanted more than she thought she could give? Her head reeling, she nervously toyed with the hem of her shirt. Here she was, a trained human weapon, with her heart held in the palm of the hand of the only man who she ever let slip past her defences. Lydecker would shoot himself if he knew. She couldn't help but smile wickedly at the thought. _'Maybe I should tell him.'_

"Max…"

His voice brought her back and she suddenly felt her body tremble slightly, though it felt nothing like her normal seizures.

"Max…I want you…"

She was certain her heart stopped at his words. Moments later, it kicked itself into overdrive, hammering loudly against her ribs. The world around her faded away and Max suddenly felt like she was floating. She hadn't even realized that those were the words she wanted to hear, until they came tumbling out of his mouth. But, just as quickly as she had succumbed to her whirling emotions, Max came crashing back down to reality as her tendency to analyse voice patterns, another annoying Manticore habit, brought her the realization that Logan had meant to say more.

Frustrated with his hesitance and unnerved by her own impatience, she whipped around to glare at him, only to be met with his most disarming smile.

"Dammit, Logan! Finish your sentence!"

Logan just grinned, eyes twinkling. "That's it." He answered matter-of-factly. "I want you."

Her eyes went wide as he repeated the words which now came so easily to his lips. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Fearing he had made the wrong move, Logan rushed ahead, desperate to fill the heavy silence. "I want you… to believe in me. Max, you breaking into my apartment that night was truly the best thing that ever happened to me." Logan continued to watch her closely, trying to gauge her reaction. She didn't flinch so he continued. "You give me a reason to get up in the morning and keep pushing on my sometimes crazy crusade to save the world. You remind me that there are things still worth saving. I've spent so long locked up in my ivory tower, trying to touch people's lives, but never letting anyone touch mine. You came along and made me realize I don't have to do it alone. I just want you to know that you don't have to be alone either. I promised you once that I wouldn't leave and I meant it." 

Max felt her throat go dry and her pulse speed up even more. She could tell Logan had wanted to say more, but she wasn't sure she was ready to hear it. His eyes were awash in a sparkling blue sea of emotion. Her heart wanted to rush into his arms and damn the consequences, but her mind was still winning the battle, planting her feet firmly to the floor and bombarding her with yet more warnings of getting too close. She knew they were all weak arguments, but she couldn't bring herself to let go of her last strands of utter self-reliance. She closed her eyes as the dramatic and yearning stains of Tchaikovsky's dance crept into her mind, filling her with memories of their dream and promises of what could be if she would just let it happen. She needed him. Standing there, staring into his waiting eyes, the need was almost painful.

Logan could see the war of emotions raging within her. Her eyes were closed, but her feelings flitted across her face, like changing colours of a rainbow.Out of instinct, he brought his hand up to meet hers, offering an anchor. Looking up at her, he whispered, "Max?"

The feeling of Logan's fingers entwined with hers blew all coherent thought from her mind, like a summer breeze. She felt his warmth creep up her arm and envelop her, heating her heart and washing her of her doubts. After much searching, she opened her eyes and found her voice.

"I do believe in you." She felt his grasp tighten at her words and smiled, a true smile for the first time that night. 

Logan returned her smile wholeheartedly. He knew she wasn't ready for any grand professions of love, but he knew how she felt. Feeling a little bolder at that realization, he pulled gently on her hand and without resistance, she slipped into his lap.With a sigh of great relief and happiness, he wound his arms around her and held her close, burying his face in her soft dark curls.He gently started to rock her in his chair, soothing away her fears like he had wanted to for so long.

Max snuggled into Logan's shoulder like it was the most natural thing to do. She knew they had crossed an important line in this complicated dance they called a relationship, but she felt strangely relieved by it. Sitting there, in Logan's arms, everything felt like it had locked into place. She had stopped running and it felt good. Slowly her eyelids, slipped shut as the exhaustion of the emotional roller coaster they had just rode out made itself known. Snuggling closer into his calming warmth and smiling to herself as his arms tightened in response, she gave in to her desire to let go and let sleep overtake her. To sleep…perchance to dream…

***

_ _

_- That other long-forgotten song was Ghost by Indigo Girls._


End file.
